


A Good Man at Heart

by kimmins



Series: In the Devil's Sights [1]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Bulshar is a slimy evil fuck, Implied non-con/dub-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Multi, implied sexual violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 20:17:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13666521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimmins/pseuds/kimmins
Summary: Constance, revived and back under her husband's power, is called to an early morning meeting in his bed room. A place she has no desire to go.





	A Good Man at Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I've been building this image of a creeper Bulshar in my head for a while and this kinda just happened. 
> 
> **WARNING**  
> There is no violence or assault in this fic but it is heavily implied that Bulshar has abused both Constance and Bobo in the past and plans on doing it in the future. It is also heavily implied that both of them are unwilling participants in his sexual actives. If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read this. Look after yourself and your well-being.

The quiet slap of bare feet on the hardwood floor and the soft slide of fabric were the only sounds in the massive house. The witch known as Constance still wasn’t used to the eerie silence that blanketed the mansion, even after several weeks of living there. Then again there was a lot she wasn’t used to. Being alive and not in the fires of Hell being the main one. The other, being back under  _ His _ thumb.  

 

It was a shock to be sure. But, as always, she was working on a plan. She just needed a little time. Right now, Constance needed to play the cowed lover and get her  _ husband  _ to trust her again. And part of that was not fighting when he called for her. 

 

So here she was, up before dawn in her damn night gown, making her way to where she could feel his pull coming from.

 

Constance counted herself lucky that this was the first time she’d been summoned to his  _ chambers _ since he dragged her, kicking and screaming, back to life. A shudder that had nothing to do with the cold seeping into her bare feet crept up her spine as she walked down the hall to the master bedroom. 

 

When she’d been young and stupid she had found his affections and attention intoxicating. But several decades of being free of him had let her see him for the slimy fuck he was. He might still cut an impressive figure but even that wasn’t enough to reignite any kind of passion for her once husband. And thankfully the feeling seemed mutual. 

 

Or at least she had assumed it was. Being summoned so early and to his bedroom didn’t bode well. Before he’d only called on the witch when he needed her powers, to torture her, or to gloat. Sometimes all three at once. And never to such a private setting. 

 

Hopefully he kept it to that once she was in his room because if he suddenly wanted more she knew she would give in to him. Anything to secure her position so that she could undermine and overthrow him later.   

 

She’s done it before and she could do it again. 

 

The only good thing Bulshar had ever given her was her sons. And they were gone. All that was left was hatred. And hatred could see her through a lot. 

 

A sudden pain hit as her husband decided she was taking too long. Gritting her teeth and fighting back tears Constance walked faster until she was at the double doors that marked the entrance to Bulshar’s bedroom. 

 

The witch took a moment to get herself under control. It was no good to storm into his room acting like the angry, vengeful bitch she was. No. Constance needed to look like the doting wife, the sycophantic waif, the useful tool that he wanted her to be.

 

It was hard to hide away her true nature to appease him. To grin and bear it. But it could have been worse. She could have been Robert. That poor bastard. 

 

She sighed as she recalled her former...friend? Is that what she could have called him? No, not friend. Lover, yes. Pawn, most assuredly. But never really a friend. 

 

No matter what title she gave him they had been close, in a way, and it had been hard to see that he’d become Bulshar’s toy. A pawn in the demon’s never ending game against those damn Earps. 

 

Yes Robert had it worse than she ever had. At least her demon husband had never fucked with her mind the way he had Robert’s. 

 

With that final thought Constance drew herself up, put on her most pleasant face and knocked on the door. It opened immediately and the witch strode into the room with as much poise as she could muster.  

 

Only to falter when she noticed that the body in the huge bed in the center of the room was not her husband but none other than Robert. 

 

Her mouth dropped as she took in the slumbering form of a man she had not expected to be here. Or so underdressed. 

 

He was sleeping on his stomach with his arms crossed under his pillow, exactly the way she knew he prefered to sleep even if they hadn’t shared a bed in decades. The covers were pooled at his knees and left him exposed to the cold of the room. Constance knew that most of the Revenants ran hot and Robert had been no exception. So she could understand at least that much of what she was seeing. 

 

And really, she understood a lot of what she was seeing. The disheveled nature of the bed, the bruises that had yet to fade from the sleeping Revenant’s back and hips, the boneless way he slept. All things she knew so very well. 

 

But that he was here instead of his own room, if he had one, was just another sign that poor Robert Svane was once again no more than a puppet. A toy for her husband to-

 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a smooth voice from her left. “Don’t act like you’ve never seen it. I know you were fucking him while I was gone.” 

 

Her husband was standing in the doorway to the ensuite, towel wrapped loosely around his waist, dark hair still wet, watching her stare at the man in the bed. And misreading her interest as something other than pity. But his words quickly sunk in and Constance’s mind struggled to find a way to address what he’d said. 

 

When she opened her mouth to say something, anything, Bulshar cut her off. “I’m not mad. Quite the opposite really.”

 

Constance just stood there in shock. He’d always been a jealous man when it came to her. What had changed?  

 

As she panicked internally about it, he stalked over to where the witch stood. The roll of his hips and the heat in his eyes would have once filled her veins with fire, now it only sent ice down her spine. He slowly circled Constance until he was right behind her, the heat of his body radiating onto her the whole time. Filling her with dread. 

 

“I only wish I’d been there to see it,” the demon whispered in her ear. And edge of a growl to it that brought bile rising up into her throat. 

 

She swallowed past the choking feeling in her throat and asked “I-is that why you called me here?” 

 

There was a pause before he answered that had the nervous woman even more on edge. “Hmmm. Sadly no. I have other business that I need you to see to that is rather time sensitive.” His hands came to rest on her hips and she fought a flinch. The amused huff of breath the demon let out as he was burying his nose in her hair let Constance know that she hadn’t fully succeeded. “But maybe later I can let him at you.” 

 

That simple statement sent a chill down her spine and had her heart racing. Which, as close as he was, was not missed by her husband. He chuckled darkly at her as he dropped his chin to her shoulder. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? You always did like it rough.” He growled the last word in her ear.  

 

“And I’m sure you know just how rough he can be, don’t you Wife?” To punctuate his question his grip on her hips turned vicious and he roughly pulled her against him. With only her thin nightgown and a towel between them there was no hiding how excited the demon was at the prospect of watching her and Robert together.

 

It was difficult to fight the rising panic and nausea Constance could feel growing each second she was in his arms, but she managed. Barely. “And if I said I did?” she was able to get out in a semblance of her usual self. 

 

The bark of laughter from the demon was unexpected and loud. Loud enough to make Constance’s ears ring but somehow not loud enough to wake the still sleeping demon on the bed.

 

“Oh Sweetling I have missed you.” The demon still holding her said before he kissed her neck with the same delicate care he had before his untimely demise. “If only we had the time I would pull you into bed and have us all get  _ reacquainted _ .” He growled into her neck, a sound of carnal hunger that Constance had once been intimately familiar with, before he unwrapped himself from her and quickly made his way to the large desk in the right corner of the room. 

 

Constance let herself sag in relief from being out of his grasp, but only for an instant before turning to face him. Because what he said finally registered. 

 

He was proposing exactly what she was hoping wouldn’t happen. But at least she had time to prepare for that eventuality, given his constant remarks about not having time. 

 

Even as she thought it Bulshar said, “Unfortunately, we are on a bit of a time limit.” as he rifled through the papers strewn across the desktop. Pulling out a sheaf of papers he turned and leaned against the desk. 

 

Before Constance would have found the picture of him leaning so casually there appealing. He was a well cut man with strong features, that radiated a charm that somehow disguised his slimy nature. But now she only knew him as her tormentor. A demon that should have stayed in the ground. And who would have if not for two jealous bitches. 

 

Swallowing the sudden flash of rage at her former “sisters” she brought her focus back to her husband. It wouldn’t do to get distracted and have him catch her by surprise.

 

What she saw made her stomach drop. 

 

His dark eyes were focused on her. His bottom lip disappeared between his teeth as his eyes roamed over her body. Constance suddenly felt as exposed as Robert was, the thin silk of her nightgown offering little in the way of protection from Bulshar’s hungry gaze. Hunger that had only grown more intense since his little plan popped into his head. 

 

He continued to leer at her for a few moments more before the demon let his eyes slid off her and back over to the bed behind her. To the prone form the witch knew was there.

 

“Yes,” he mused after a few moments of lustful gazing. “Later. After you’ve done this for me,” he motioned with the hand holding the papers. “And after he’s rested up.” He gestured with his chin over to where Robert was still sleeping. Constance couldn’t help but look back at him as well. 

 

He was still out cold, sprawled in the same pose as when she’d walked in. Though, the bruises she had taken note of had faded and he had buried his face in his pillow like a child hiding from a waking light at some point. But even with the threat of him hanging over her head she couldn’t deny that he was a gorgeous man. And she knew if worse came to worse she could hold her own against him. There always had been something to the man that had inspired wickedness in her.

 

And though their relationship had always been  _ complicated  _ she did trust him not to truly hurt her. At least not the way Bulshar would want him to. 

 

That thought sparked a kernal of hope in her chest. Maybe Robert could be spoken to about Bulshar’s plan for them both and they could reach an understanding. They’d had an _understanding_ before. Albeit, a rather one sided one. But if it was for their mutual benefit he should be agreeable. 

 

Of course she’d have to catch him when her husband’s influence was low or she’d get no help from him. It was a crapshoot as to how much Bulshar’s puppet he was at any given moment. Sometimes he was very lucid, very himself. Very “Bobo”. Other times he had that harlequin smile and empty eyes that sent a shivers down her spine. 

 

“I’m afraid I wore him out, poor lamb.” Her husband’s voice brought her attention back to him.  He had a cat that got the cream smile on his face. He was so very sure of himself, so very cocky. It was Constance’s hope that she could wipe that look off his face again someday. But until then, she had a part to play.

 

“He always did put his all into it. Good to know he still does.” She flashed a wicked smile at her husband, which he returned with a smile of his own. 

 

“Oh that he does.” he said as he pushed off the desk and sauntered over to her. “I can’t wait to see him give you  _ his all _ ,” he purred. The double entendre rolling off his tongue like honey. The papers in his hand making contact with her chest with a light tap before he dragged them downwards. 

 

Constance’s breath hitched ever so slightly at the sensation and a dark and hungry smile grew on Bulshar’s lips. 

 

The shuffle of bed linens and the sound of Robert rolling over broke the growing tension between the former husband and wife. 

 

The demon looked towards the bed but caught sight of the clock on the bedside table. Derailed, he tsked and once again lamented the lack of time. “I really wish we had more time but alas. Here,” He handed the papers to Constance. “Read these and tell me what you think. I need your legal advice for once.” He laughed her as he walked past her to his closet to get dressed.

 

The witch only spared her husband a glance to make sure he was out of the room before she turned to look at Robert. Who was staring right back at her, the look on his face at odds with the lazy way he was sprawled out on the bed. Body fully on display.

 

She ignored the obvious attempt to unsettle her and met his eyes. Clear and blue and not a hint of her husband in them. Good. 

 

Constance had suspected that he hadn’t been asleep since she’d walked in. Robert was a notoriously light sleeper and the sound of the doors closing behind her would have been more than enough to wake him up. And when he hadn’t stirred at all when Bulshar had laughed loud enough to wake the dead she was sure he’d been merely playing at sleeping. Listening in on the conversation no doubt. 

 

“Robert,” she said, acknowledging the Revenant. Her tone low enough that Bulshar wouldn’t hear from the closet. The man was vain as a cat and would be occupied for a while as he dressed. 

 

All she got in return was the arching of a white stained brow before he looked back over his shoulder toward the closet behind him. Checking to make sure his master was properly distracted before he nodded to the foot of the bed. A silent request that she join him.

 

Casting her own glance at the closet Constance rolled her shoulders and hesitantly made her way to the large bed. It seemed like a bad idea to get so close to the one place she desperately wanted to stay out of but she needed to take advantage of Robert’s lucidness while she could. 

 

The mattress sunk under her as she sat, facing away from the man still sprawled out on it behind her. If her husband returned it would merely look like she had taken a seat as she read through the papers he had given her and not like they were talking. So she sat and started scanning the documents she’d been handed, waiting for Robert to say something. It was always best to let him come to her if she wanted his cooperation.  

 

She’d gotten through most of the first page before she felt the bed shift. A quick glance back told her Robert had rolled over onto his side to face her. His face was very serious, sharp blue eyes tracking over her as she looked away, not able to face his scrutiny. Even as she tried to scan over she papers she could feel him watching her. Taking in the tightness in her shoulders, the line of her spine. Picking up on every little sign her body was projecting and reading her better than her husband could ever hope to do. 

 

Then again Robert had made it his job to read people. It was skill he’d been forced to develop early on. A skill he’d mastered after decades of practice. Without it he never would survived, let alone thrived. 

 

Her husband on the other hand was too sure of himself and his power to pay enough attention to those kinds of details. He liked to think he knew people but he was always surprisingly blind to their true motivations. 

 

But not Robert.

 

He watched her for a few more heartbeats before he huffed out a rueful chuckle. The sound of it drew her attention back to him as he rolled onto his back and ran his hands over his face. When he made eye contact with her again he flashed her a rakish smile. “Well it looks like we’re both fucked, now.”

 

“Don’t be crass Robert,” she snapped at the demon. 

 

“Hey. Just saying it like it is Connie. If my Master, and your husband, wants you to join me in his bed, that’s what gonna happen.” There was a tiny hint of mournfulness in his tone. He had some sympathy for her. But not much. 

 

To be fair if it their roles had been reversed and she had been the sole focus of her husband’s attentions she would also be happy to have someone to share the burden. 

 

And as if to prove her point the Revenant continued as he rolled over onto his stomach, “I would be lying if I said I wouldn’t  appreciate the company.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, letting his eyes wander over her. When she glared at him he just smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile and it held an edge of anger. 

 

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t be happy with the arrangement if was on your terms instead of his,” he hissed, pointing at her to drive home his point. “I’ve seen where you got your taste for pain.” 

 

There was nothing to say to that. So she said nothing.

 

When she didn’t try and argue with him, Robert narrowed his eyes at her. After a second he chuckled darkly. “Well, I will admit that I much prefer your tender mercies to your hubby’s. And I’m sure,” he paused to roll back on to his back, “You prefer my  _ mercy _ to his.” With that he stretched, arching his back, flexing his arms, and rolling his hips in a sensual movement that drew her eye just like he wanted. When he caught her looking he flashed her a cocky grin and an infuriating wink. 

 

Exasperated by his show of male vanity Constance rolled her eyes at him a turned back to her papers. He might be right and it might have been a pretty show but as Bulshar had said she’d seen it before. 

 

Of course by looking away she had let Robert win that round. But she was willing to concede at least once if it meant she had a better chance of gaining his cooperation later. And after his little revelation she was sure he was already halfway to being on her side. 

 

There was a happy little sigh from behind her that said the Revenant was basking in his victory. “Are you done gloating or can we get to business?” she asked dryly after another few seconds. 

 

Another sigh, this time not as happy as the one before. This one was tired. More tired than she’d ever heard Robert before. “Look, Connie. I know you aren’t as excited as your hubby is over the prospect of getting back in the sack with him.” There was another tired sigh. His tone when he continued echoed that exhaustion. “And as happy as I am to have some fucking help in that regard, I’m not champing at the bit to put us both through that hell. But,” 

 

Constance cut him off, her eyes not leaving her papers even as her voice caught on the words. “But  you’re going to do it, like the good little pet you’ve become. Aren’t you?” She asked even though she knew the answer. Because his was the same as hers.

 

“I am.”  There was a few moments of silence before he said, voice soft, “I’m not going to lie to you and tell you it’s gonna be fine. That I won’t hurt you. Because I can’t promise you that. Not if he’s in my head. But I will try.” 

 

She couldn’t help but look back at him. He wasn’t looking at her but at some spot on the ceiling, a haunted look in his eyes. But for a brief instant they met each other's gaze and she had to look away. Not able to stand the look in his eyes. 

 

Taking a steadying breath she whispered, “I know. You never were that kind of man. And for once I’m grateful for that.”

 

A sad laugh came from behind her and she was tempted to reach out and comfort him but before she could there was a sound from inside the closet. They were out of time. 

 

And second later there was the scuff of a hard soled shoe against the carpet and Bulshar walked out, hands fumbling with his tie. “I’ll never understand these damn things.” There was a thread of frustration in his voice but when he looked up and saw his wife sitting on his bed he smiled broadly. 

 

Again Constance thought that sitting on the bed had been a bad idea. 

 

Forgetting his tie, her husband walked over to her and with very little warning pulled her into a rough kiss. 

 

It took everything in her not to fight it. And even more to relax into the kiss. The only thing that kept her from giving in to the urge to bite his fucking tongue off when he slipped it between her lips was knowing that it would only make it worse on her in the end. So she let him kiss her with all the passion he had. 

 

When Bulshar pulled back from the kiss his thumbs stroked her cheeks reverently. “Oh Sweetling. I have missed you,” he crooned. Then he kissed her again, this time sweetly. Gently. As if he hadn’t spent the last month torturing her. As if he wasn’t holding a rather violent threat over her head in the shape of her once lover. As if he really loved her. 

 

And that was a terrifying thought. If this was him loving her, what would his hatred be like?

 

A sound from behind her drew their attention and Bulshar broke the kiss. He gave a quick glance over her shoulder to where Robert was laying. “Looks like someone is awake. And maybe a little jealous,” her erstwhile husband whispered to her, a hint of playfulness in his voice. 

 

He pecked her on the forehead. “Finish looking through those papers while I give our boy some attention.” He flashed her an impish smile at the pet name. “I’ll need your opinion and time is of the essence.” 

 

Again Constance was reminded that she had a role to play if she was to survive this time around, so she plastered a smile on her face and replied, “Of course my Love. See to your pet.” 

 

That got her a flash of teeth disguised as a smile and a rough brush of his lips on hers. “Our pet, Sweetling.” He all but growled. “Oh but if we had the time…” he trailed off, before kissing her her deeply again, catching her lip between his teeth as he pulled back. “I have missed you.” 

 

“And I you,” Constance lied. Trying her best to sound convincing. 

 

Of course Bulshar was, as she said, blind to the details. And Robert didn’t give him time to pick up on the stress in her voice. A beat after she had spoken he was pulling the demon’s attention back to him by rolling in the sheets like a love drunk whore and calling out to his master. 

 

“What no kiss for me?” The question was posed with such playfulness and hunger that it nearly turned the witch's stomach. She knew that it was all a ploy and that Robert had willingly taken the demon’s attention to save her. And again she was glad that even after all he’d been through Robert Svane was still a good man a heart. 

 

And while she watched her husband kiss that good hearted man, that man watched her back. Their eyes meeting as they both realized for that no matter what happened next they wouldn’t suffer through it alone. Not this time.


End file.
